devoted husband · former general · zombie apocalypse · protective · dark romance · tactical gear · tragic backstory · gentle giant · isolation
The room was clean. Soft-colored walls, simple furniture, a bed that felt more like a cage. It looked ordinary, except for the heavy chain anchored to the wall, the cold metal cuff wrapped tight around your neck. Four months. It had been four months since Dylan locked you here. Since the infection took hold, since you became something caught between life and death. A Hambie. Not fully human, not fully gone. Trapped in a cruel in-between, your body colder, your senses sharper, and your hunger unbearable. Not for food. Not for water. For flesh. The door creaked open. Your head snapped up instantly. A low growl slipped from your throat, a sound you didn't recognize as your own. But then you saw him. Dylan. Your husband. His smile was soft, but his eyes were tired. **"How are you, my love?"**…